


R & R

by SonjaJade



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: F/M, Injury Recovery, Military, R&R
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-09-06 08:38:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8742982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SonjaJade/pseuds/SonjaJade
Summary: After the Promised Day, and after Roy and Riza are discharged from the hospital, Grumman orders them to North City to rest and recuperate for three weeks.  Riza’s in denial, but Roy knows what Grumman’s up to.





	

Three weeks.  Grumman had given them three weeks to heal and recover in North City, away from the nosy press, away from the military (who was in the middle of restructuring after the coup attempt), away from well meaning subordinates and friends- and away from any lingering hidden enemies.  
  
They’d been whisked away in the middle of the night, in disguises, and arrived in North City two days later, greeted by a chilling cool breeze and bright sunshine glinting off the late spring snow.  The roads were clear thankfully, and getting to Grumman’s hunting lodge had been painless and uneventful.  After stocking the pantry and ice box with fresh food, Roy Mustang and Riza Hawkeye were left to themselves, the still quiet of the piney valley in which the cabin was situated, and the twinkling stars overhead.  
  
Roy poked at the logs, stoking the flames up as Riza tended to a saucepan of hot chocolate.  She had her long blonde hair down.  It cascaded down her back in a golden waterfall and his aching hands longed to touch it, hoping it would feel as warm as it looked.  He watched as she poured the steaming hot drink into mugs.  
  
“Do you want marshmallows, sir?” Riza called.  
  
Sir…  Even here, where no one would ever know what she called him, it was still ‘sir’ and not ‘Roy’.  “Sure, I’ll have some,” he answered.  She grabbed a handful and tossed them in, then turned and brought the mugs over to where he stood.  She handed it to him carefully, ignoring how Roy's eyes flicked to the bandage that was barely visible under her turtleneck sweater.  
  
“Use both hands, I don’t want you to drop it,” she cautioned.  
  
He grimaced at that, the thought that he was made somehow weaker from Bradley’s attack, but did as she asked anyhow.  Riza seemed to always know better than him when it came to everyday life.  Roy took a scalding sip and grunted.  
  
“This is really good.”  
  
“Thank you, sir,” Riza replied as she sat down in one of the overstuffed wingback chairs near the fireplace.  
  
Roy sat his mug on the mantle, the tugged the other chair to sit closer to her.  “So…” he mused aloud, as he grabbed his mug and joined her.  “Three weeks.  And that’s if we don’t get snowed in.”  
  
“It’ll be nice for a little while, I imagine,” Riza said.  She took a sip and continued, “Though I’m sure you’ll be bored in a matter of days.”  
  
“Maybe.”  
  
“Well,” she tapped her chin as she looked toward the ceiling in thought, “there aren’t any night clubs unless you go into the city, and certainly none like you’re used to in Central.  The restaurants are more like diners and not the fine dining you’re used to.  There’s very little in the way of entertainment, and I’m you’re only company.  You’ll be bored before this first week is up, sir.”  She gave him a soft smile.  “But that’s alright.  If you’re able to feel bored, that’s just another sign you’re alive and not dead on the other side of the gate.”  
  
Riza hadn’t come right out and said anything, but he could see the deep relief in her eyes.  He could read between her words, right to the core of her sentiments- she was so happy to be on the ultimate boring trip with him.  It meant their lives hadn’t been snuffed out, that they’d conquered death, and that they were on the mend together.  
  
“Riza…”  
  
She blinked at the sound of her name.  “Sir?”  
  
“Don’t you think it’s a little strange that Grumman sent us up here to his private hunting cabin- _alone_?”  
  
Of course, she eyed him with cool professionalism.  “He sent us up here to recover in peace and quiet.  If his imagination is running away with him, that’s not my concern.”  
  
Suddenly Roy was wishing he had something a bit stronger than hot chocolate.  “He’s my friend, I know him-”  
  
“And he’s my grandfather.  I barely know him, but Catalina sure knows how he is at times…”  
  
Roy nodded.  “Well, he’s been asking me the same question for years and I’ve kept telling him I don’t know the answer, that I might never know the answer.  The reason is because that answer hinges a question I’ve never asked _you_ , Riza.”  He sat his mug aside and reached for her hand.  “Unless I’m mistaken, you’re his only granddaughter, correct?”  
  
Riza’s brows furrowed.  “Yes.  Why?”  
  
Roy took a deep breath and looked down at their hands.  When he caught Riza’s eyes again, he said, “Grumman’s been asking me to marry his granddaughter since before I knew it was you he meant.”  He watched her cheeks pink at the thought before looking back to her slender fingers resting in his bandaged palm.  “I don’t know how you feel for me, in that regard.  To be honest, even if you did feel that way for me, I don’t know that you’d ever let me find out your true feelings.  Yes, I think he sent us up here to recuperate in peace, but I think he’s hoping to grow whatever feelings are between us into this fairy tale romance.  I think he wants more than just tea and cat naps for us during these three weeks.”  
  
Riza’s face was red as the flames in the fireplace now.  She still hadn’t said anything and Roy just knew he’d offended her.  But then she spoke very quietly to him.  
  
“I almost lost you twice in the past year, right before my eyes.  I think about how close you were to being buried right beside Maes, and I…”  
  
He watched tears well up in her eyes and he gently squeezed her hand.  “Don’t cry…  I’m right here, fit as a fiddle.”  
  
“But you almost weren’t,” she protested, wiping her eyes on her sweater sleeve.  “When we lost you to Bradley forcing you to open the gate…  I remember cursing myself for not telling you… for letting it remain unsaid-”  
  
“Say it now, then.”  His eyes held hers.  “Just tell me, Riza.  There’s no one to hear you but me.  No MPs, no brass, no soldiers…  Just you and me.”  
  
She was quiet a little while longer, then she looked at the toes of her boots.  “When you came to stay with us, it was like you breathed life back into everything in that house.  My father seemed more alive than he had in years, I _felt_ more alive than I had in years, the house itself didn’t seem so dusty or sad…  But then Ishval happened and the army,” she trailed off.  She took a deep breath and squeezed his hand gently.  “It wasn’t until recently that I remembered how alive you make me feel, and how dead I would be if you were ever gone… or somehow permanently out of my reach in another way, like a married to someone else.”  
  
“Riza, I couldn’t marry anyone else.”  He chuckled to himself.  “Trust me, as bad as Grumman is with his nagging about you and I, my aunt is twice as bad.”  
  
Riza grinned.  “Really?”  
  
“Yeah!  She’s demanding _grandchildren_!”  
  
They both laughed at that and Roy finally felt the wall between them come down.  Her laughter was a precious gift, something he rarely heard from her.  Riza relaxed at last and she smiled at him.  
  
“Roy, if our circumstances were different, I imagine we would have ended up together a lot sooner.  But as it is, I’m still following behind you on your way to the top.  We just can’t.”  
  
Roy nodded.  “I know.  But Grumman tells me I’m next in line for the Führer’s seat.  When I get to the top, you could retire- be my wife instead of my adjutant.”  
  
Riza took a deep breath.  “I could.  But if you’re as lazy at home as you are at the office, we might be too incompatible to live together.”  
  
Roy blinked.  “I always did my chores when I lived with you and your father, what makes you think I wouldn’t now?”  
  
“That was years ago, and you were a teenager.  A lot of things have changed since then, you know.”  She went on to speculate how often he washed his clothes, whether his bed was ever made, if he washed his dishes in a timely fashion or if he waited until they piled up beyond the faucet- and Roy leaned over and cut her off with a swift kiss.  
  
He’d dreamed about it, alright.  Had dreams, visions, fantasies and random thoughts about this very event.  Turns out nothing could have prepared him for the experience.  He expected her to either not react at all, react timidly, or shove him away.  He did not ever expect her to press her lips closer to his and take the lead, opening his mouth and sweeping her tongue firmly against his.  Her hands were at his cheek and neck and pulling him closer still.  He hummed in delight and she broke away from him for a moment.  
  
“I think we could work something out, maybe.”  
  
“I think so, too.”  
  
“So you think this is why we were given three weeks to ourselves?” she asked as he left soft kisses on her jaw and throat, even the bandage covering her wound just under her left ear.  
  
“Yep.”  His hand slipped around to sneak under the back of her sweater, his fingers lightly touching her scarred and melted skin.  
  
“Is sex too strenuous for us?”  
  
“I’ll do all the work, it’ll be fine…”  
  
“Alright,” she sighed as he unhooked her bra.  
  
Three weeks alone at the foot of Briggs Mountain sure sounded like hell at first.  But now that certain details had been worked out, Roy was sure they’d find a way to keep themselves entertained.


End file.
